


Bury Me Face Down

by Dragnoria



Series: Adventures of the Next Generation [2]
Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bondage, Cock Slapping, Cock Slut, Cock Tease, Cock Warming, Cock Worship, Collars, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Face-Fucking, Humiliation, Large Cock, M/M, Masochism, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rimming, Sadism, Semi-Public Sex, Strip Tease, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragnoria/pseuds/Dragnoria
Summary: Inojin's pretty good at art, and without bragging too much he's relatively good at fighting and skulking around too, though admittedly he probably got that from his father though. Out of all the situations Inojin expected himself to be in one day, this was not one of them. He never expected to end up giving someone a blowjob outside, he never anticipated that one day he'd be filled with more come than he could imagine and in short; he didn't anticipate a lot of things.
Relationships: Yamanaka Inojin/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Adventures of the Next Generation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633057
Kudos: 66





	1. Complications of Mind Transfer

Inojin sometimes questions himself, he sometimes questions his actions or the logic to his decisions but to say the least, he does indeed question himself. In fact, he’s questioning himself even now and more accurately he’s questioning why out of all the things he could’ve done, did he decide to “Train” his Mind Transfer Jutsu. Sure, it was simple and he hadn’t expected much out of it, all he intended to do was worm his way into Boruto’s head and see how much control he had, flex his mental muscles so to speak. So why, in God’s name was he currently stuck in this position, in this body at this time and why on Earth did he not release the Jutsu. His head is tucked down, forehead firmly pressed against the cold wood of his desk as he shivers, a shaky moan rolling from between his lips. Drool is leaking from the corners of his mouth as his body shakes, he’s tried time and time again to wipe it away and to stop the mess from growing but to no avail, every time he manages to wipe his mouth clean more drool quickly leaks out, and closing his mouth only worsens his situation. His cheeks are flushed bright and red, at this point he can’t tell whether he’s red because of embarrassment, the heat or maybe it’s the pleasure, he doesn’t know. He sighs and his body shakes his back arching as he feels nails grip dig into his hips, he’s pulled back, kept still. He wants to turn his head back, wants to yell or say something sarcastic or smart but he can’t, Hell even if he could look behind himself, he’s not too sure that he’d manage to get out a full sentence without being interrupted. He’s struggling to keep himself upright, arms and body slick with sweat, it’s hot, too hot to be doing this, too hot to be doing this  _ here  _ . Yet at the same time, he can’t bring himself to complain, to tell Azazel to stop, to do anything other than lie still. 

He groans loud and clear, conscious of his surroundings, of all the windows, the unlocked door, the desk that he’s on and he knows that at any moment so may come strolling in and see him splayed out like this. His toes curl as his nails dig and scratch into the desk beneath him as he feels Azazel twist and coil his tongue around inside him, his mind fixates itself on that one particular organ, the warm, wet feeling that’s pushing ever deep inside of him. He can feel Azazel’s lips pressed firmly against his virgin hole, against  _ Boruto’s  _ ass, Azazel is gripping him tight, pulling him close as he pulls his tongue out, sliding it across his hole once more. Inojin whines at the loss, frowns and almost speaks before a startled gasp breaks his train of thought, he feels Azazel’s fingers graze along the length of his cock, brushing over it through the fabric of his underwear. He whimpers, whines, and groans, spreads his legs even wider and relishing in the feeling. Pre-come leaks from the head of his cock,  _ Boruto’s  _ cock and drips onto the desk below, if he were in a better mindset he might say something or simply try and remember the size of it, to see how it compares against his own, but a quick twist of Azazel’s wrist drags his thoughts back to reality, to the shaky breathless moan that rolls from his lips. He gaps into the open air, not bothering to suppress nor silence himself as he shivers and shakes, opaque liquid dripping from the head of his cock, spurting and quickly filling the fabric of his underwear, the soft material quickly becoming soaked as warm come begins to seep through it. The edges of his vision begin to blacken, and he can feel his control waning, he won’t be able to maintain this Jutsu any longer, so in the hopes that his intrusion will go unnoticed, he releases Boruto and returns to his own body.

His vision is blurry at first and he slowly adjusts, tired and drained from trying to keep the Jutsu active for too long. He realizes, possibly too late might he add, that he’s not exactly hidden. No, his back is pressed against the bark and he groans, realizing that he is fairly visible, in fact, he can see groups, crowds of people walking by and he has no doubt that they too can see him, if they squint hard enough, so as such he gets to his feet, or he tries to, at least. He moves one leg as is suddenly hyper-aware of the wetness in his pants, the slick feeling inside his briefs, and reluctantly he draws his gaze downward. Here he finds himself, in public, his legs spread wide, with a large stain across the front of his pants, sticky and smelling distinctly of come. He bites his lip, cheeks reddening remarkably fast as he gazes down at himself, it’s too much for one orgasm, too much for two even, so he must’ve come at least three times.

In public might he add.

He exhales loudly and crawls behind the tree, past the bushes into some semblance of privacy, before sitting once more, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of his clothes. He leans back and spreads his legs, contemplating simply running home, or pouring water on himself to make this somehow less embarrassing. He tilts his head only to realize two things, the first of which being that the sunlight above him is currently being blocked, and the second being that there’s something warm on top of his face. He freezes, out of both embarrassment and fear, before he blinks, once, twice, three times and then he feels the thing on his cheek throb. It fucking throbs.

Inojin immediately pulls away, or at least he tries to, but his hair is gripped and he’s being pulled, he whines and can feel the tears welling up in his eyes as they strain to make out the silhouette of the person standing above him. He inhales sharply and is met with a scent that he thinks he recognizes, so he breathes in again, sniffs the air and turns his head. He presses his nose against it and trails his nose along the length of it before he reaches what he assumes to be the base of it. Instead of inhaling, he opens his mouth and subsequently sticks out his tongue, lapping and curling it across whatever is in front of him. He repeats this a few more times before realization hits him and he jerks away, eyes wide.

Inches away from his face, hangs a heavy, thick cock, pink and veiny, pulsating as pre leaks from the tip in thick droplets. Inojin can feel his heart rate increase, he feels his mouth water and can’t tell whether it’s just the remnants of Boruto’s mind or his own, but his hands shake as he reaches out for it. Almost touching it, before he flicks his attention upwards to find Azazel gazing down at him, Inojin waits patiently, lets out a soft whine as he feels it throb and lightly brush against his fingers.

Azazel raises his eyebrows, grinning, “You’re waiting for my permission, aren’t you?”

Inojin nods almost immediately, his breathing light and shaky, heart pounding in his chest and cheeks red. He’s on his knees, legs spread, erection straining against his come stained pants.

Azazel swipes his tongue between his lips as silence fills the air between them. Then he speaks, “Clothes, take them off. Now.”

He hesitates momentarily but then obeys quickly, swiftly removing his clothes and laying them out on the grass, ensuring that his pants and underwear get the most sunlight in the hopes that they’ll dry. His body is exposed, skin creamy and pale, hips curving slightly. His stomach is flat and nipples are bright pink, akin to rosebuds, at first he folds his hands in his lap, covering himself before realization hits him once more and he removes his hands and spreads his legs. His cock is pink, almost red and achingly hard, standing upright between his legs, precome oozing from the head and rolling along the underside, over his balls. He isn’t concerned with that, however, as he feels the heavyweight of Azazel’s cock collide with his cheek, a stinging sensation radiating across the side of his face. Precome sticks to his cheek as Azazel grip himself by the base and drags his heavy cock, slowly across Inojins face, over his lips, across his nose and up to his forehead, and after a few seconds, Inojin feels covered and marked in the sticky substance. Then he’s hit by it again, Azazels cock loudly smacking against his cheek, and when he drags it across his lips, Inojin can’t resist the urge to open his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the clear liquid. He regrets it almost immediately as Azazel grips the back of his head, and slams him down to the base, pressing the poor boy’s nose into the bed of soft pubic hair. Inojin gags, coughs, and sputters, struggling to breathe as spit runs down his chin and neck, over his chest, he hears Azazel moan above him, his voice low as he speaks, “Good boy,”

Those words, simple, short and sweet go straight to the blondes cock, as his hips thrust forward, cock twitching as small dribbles of come leak from the tip, his balls hurt and ache, but he continues all the same. Pale blue eyes gaze up at Azazel through rapidly fluttering blonde eyelashes, and Azazel drags the boys head back, pushing him off, watching him gasp for air. He gives him a few seconds to catch his breath but it’s nothing too serious before he presses the blonde down into the grass, grips his hair and inches his cock into that warm waiting mouth. Inojin’s throat bulges, and his body shakes, convulses as Azazel grinds against his face, rough and without mercy, he laughs above him as he sees the blondes cock twitch and watches precome dribble from it. He tightens his grip on the boy’s hair, ruts into his mouth, fast and hard, nearly slamming his head down into the grass, groaning above him, Inojin raises his hands upwards, but not too push him away, no, instead he softly grips Azazel’s balls, one in each hand as he rolls them, squeezes them softly, fondling them. Azazel twitches inside his throat, spurts pre into his mouth before he drags himself out, strings of saliva connected to his cock,

Inojin coughs, wheezes and inhales loudly, he yelps as Azazel grips his hair and raises his head, confusion spreading across his features as he watches Azazel slowly stroke his cock. Then grip on his hair tightens, he’s pulled closer, right before strings of opaque, warm come spurt across his face, over his eyelashes, cheeks, and lips. He opens his mouth, only to have it filled as well, and in response, he swallows as shot after shot of come land into his waiting mouth, some ropes splattering over his chest. He keeps swallowing, as he feels the loads lessening over time, he can’t open his eyes, but he feels full or perhaps sated at the very least.

Azazel’s drags his cock over Inojin’s chest, smearing Pre into his skin as he moves lower. He smacks his heavy dick against the boy’s bloated stomach, listens to his soft groan before moving onward, he dribbles come over the boys cute, small, little cock, covering it before grinding, rutting against the boy’s smooth thighs. He absentmindedly wonders if perhaps he could push the boy’s thighs together, and slide his cock between them, but the thought vanishes almost immediately as he stares down. He licks his lips, moving back up towards Inojin’s face, raising his cock upwards onto to drop it, listening to the sickeningly sweet sound that reverberates as it lands against the boy’s cheek. He grinds against his face, and softly combs his fingers through his hair, humming quietly, “Good job, good boy.”

Inojin for his part, smiles, hums happily and tilts his head, nuzzling against Azazel’s cock before resting his cheek on his inner thigh, whispering in reply, “Yours.”

The thought is intrusive, and once it starts Azazel cannot help but dwell on it, “Mine.” he replies, still running his fingers through Inojins hair.

He does like the concept of that and wonders just how far he can push what’s his. 


	2. Good Boy

It’s unreal, Azazel surmises, he knows it's wrong, he knows that they shouldn't be doing this yet for some reason they both still feel compelled, willed to continue and so, as such they do. Nobody else is home, at least not yet and based on the limited information that Inojin had, it seemed as though the home would remain empty save for the two of them for quite some time. As such, they took their time and didn't rush things at least not any more than the situation required, which to be fair was quite a large amount of urgency. Inojin’s pants were tented, a small stain growing on the front of them, he could feel it, the heat, the weight of his cock pressing against his thigh, the subtle bucking of his hips, he was seeking friction of any kind. His hands were hot, almost unbearable but the intensity of their current situation allowed Azazel to adapt quickly and subsequently ignore the feeling of heated hands against his waist and hip. Inojin’s hips snap forward sharply, he's rutting against Azazel's thigh with reckless abandon, desperate, broken moans and whimpers rolling from between his lips. Azazel can feel the heat of Inojin’s breath on his chest, he feels and watches Inojin dip further downward, the tips of his blonde hair dragging across his stomach. Inojin moves without hesitation, hands tugging down his partner’s shorts, he fishes his cock from within the confines of his clothing, hot fingers wrapping around the base of his cook, the underside of it dragging across Inojin’s wrist, pre-come leaking from the tip. Inojin readjusts his grip, wrapping both his hands around the base, he raises it upwards, the weight of it is heavy on his hands. He leans forward, dipping down and spreading his legs, he pulls his own cock out, it’s pink and twitching, pre dribbling along the underside. Azazel groans loudly, pushing his hips forward as he feels the cool wet sensation of Inojin’s tongue dragging and swirling over the sensitive tip, he gazes downward, eyes firmly fixed on Inojin’s own, watching as he wraps his lips around the head, suckling on it and swallowing the pre he subsequently pulls into his mouth. Azazel moves his hands downward, combing his hands through Inojin’s hair, pulling, tugging on the soft locks, as the other remains on the floor, planted firmly between his legs. He gags and chokes, spit pooling at the corners of his lips, dribbling down his chin, a strangled groan makes its way from between his lips as Azazel's hips snap forward, rough and hard, he can see the bulge grow in his throat as he takes more into the tight confines of his mouth. He whines, Inojin audibly  _ whines  _ as he thrusts his hips forward searching for friction, the stain on his shorts growing larger, his nose pressed firmly against Azazel's pubes. A wide grin spreads across Azazel's lips as he pushes him down, continually throbbing, pulsating within the other’s mouth, he groans loud and clear as he rolls his hips against Inojin’s mouth, listening to the audible gag that he wretches from within. Inojin’s cheeks are red and tears are rolling down them and slowly, Azazel pulls out, watching the spit and drool cling to his cock, connecting Inojin’s lips with his skin, as pre dribbles and leaks from the head. His gazes upwards with hazy pale blue eyes as he sticks his tongue out, panting heavily, his breath cold against the wet flesh of Azazel’s cock. He glares down, violet eyes locking with Inojin’s own, his cock twitches idly, lightly brushing against the soft, flushed cheeks of his partner, Inojin hums, a small smile spreading over his lips as he leans in, cheek pressed firmly against Azazel's cock, feeling it throb and pulsate against him. 

Inojin turns his head to the side, dragging his tongue across its veins, lightly sucking against the underside, he almost pulls away when he accidentally knicks his teeth against the skin, he  _ knows  _ that must’ve hurt, but the hands in his hair calm him. So, he moves, lapping at the head, swirling and curling his tongue around the head of his partner’s cock, before pressing his mouth against the head, wrapping his lips around it, idly swallowing as he’s pushed to the base. Inojin gags, chokes and coughs and all once, pressing his hands against his partner's thighs, and swallowing slowly. His mouth, warm and wet is nice, and Azazel rolls his hips forward, thrusts into him, watches him struggle to adjust, yet Inojin continues, he isn’t deterred, not yet at the very least. So Azazel pulls his cock free, saliva clinging to the tip as he leans back, a grin slowly spreading across his lips as he watches the boy in front of him.

Inojin’s eyes fixated themselves on the cock before him, as he came to multiple conclusions in that very moment, the first being that Azazel’s bulge prior to this moment had most certainly not done him justice; the boy was endowed with an erection that almost made Inojin feel ashamed, perfectly thick and veiny and capped with a dark pink head that drooled shining pre-cum alongside his own spit. Then again while he didn’t know the average length for someone’s cock at their age, he could state with reasonable confidence that Azazel was either wildly above it, or Inojin himself was greatly lacking. The cock swayed and bobbed back and forth in front of him with each small motion, magnified as it inched ever closer to Inojin’s face. Suddenly, in that same moment, he also came to realize that he could smell it, through the haze of sweat and mixed fluids. It was a deep, musky scent, yet surprisingly not bad, not unpleasant, it was strong, heavy, intoxicating, and heady, probably the sort of scent that Inojin  _ shouldn’t  _ want to be smeared all over his own face.

Inojin swallowed and did his best to bite back the moan that rolled from his lips as Azazel bluntly slapped his cock down on his face, smooth, hard flesh pressing, dragging up from beneath his bottom lip to just under his forehead and further beyond, overloading his already hyper-sensitive body with hot, musky, addictive, dizzying cock. The shaft nearly dwarfing his entire face, and it was upon that realization that Inojin’s body shook, whimpers escaping from between barely parted lips as his erection throbbed, pressed against the tight confines of his underwear, as his cheek remained smashed by the sheer weight Azazel’s cock, his lips barely grazing against the underside of it.

He nuzzled against it, trembling lips parting so that the tip of his tongue could make contact and taste the clean, salty skin. He mewled, whined pathetically when it prompted Azazel to move the throbbing appendage, grinding his cock against Inojin’s face in painfully slow, even strokes, further flooding Inojin’s mind with thoughts of just how inappropriate this was, how lewd and whorish his current behavior was, how Azazel was essentially rubbing off on his face as though that was what it was meant for, what  _ he _ was made for, as though Azazel was fully prepared to come right then and there, to spill his seed and fully drench Inojin in it.

“Good boy,” Azazel praised, letting out a sigh as he reached down to sink a hand into the mass of Inojin’s thick hair. He for his part, Inojin obediently allowed his head to be pulled forward, pliant, panting, complacent and compliant as Azazel guided him further down his shaft, resting the length across Inojin’s forehead and  _ almost  _ shoving him into the other boy’s heavyset balls.

A low and needy moan dragged itself out from deep within Inojin’s throat, pressing his lips against the stretchy skin that withheld Azazel’s balls, he’d managed to convince himself somewhere along the way that he’d came in his underwear simply from the sheer thought of having himself in this position and briefly he began to ponder what exactly would the consequences be if he were found in such a situation as this one, though that thought is quickly dismissed. He shivers and audibly whines at the feeling of something warm and wet pooling on his forehead, mind vividly imagining the pearls of pre-cum slipping down over the ridge of Azazel’s foreskin and dripping onto him.

He gasps and whimpers quietly at the feeling of Azazel’s cock retreating, nearly chasing after it himself before the few strings of dignity he has left pull him back. Unfortunately, those strings did not subsequently close his open jaw, nor pull his tongue back into his mouth as it was currently hanging out in desperate hunger. 

Inojin’s arousal washed over him in a forceful violent wave, as the other boy pressed the head of his cock against Inojin’s spit glistening lips, parting his unconsciously slacking jaw to rest, heavy and radiating warmth on his tongue. The pulsating pleasure in his gut and groin was unreal, all of which stemming just from the sheer concept that he had another boy’s cock in his mouth, that he had been reduced to a state so humiliating, lewd and degrading. He could hardly think around vivid images of his mouth being fucked, about Azazel using him as a toy for his own pleasure, about moaning and leaking pre-cum all over himself as hot, sticky strings of semen trickled down his throat and decorated his hair.

At this point he couldn’t even call it simple need-no, it was blatant greed and hungry desire, desperation that only increases as time goes on, kitten licks that soon became messier as he slid a little further down, careful to keep his teeth from touching directly. He shuddered and whimpered, forcing his jaw as far open as it would go so that he could take more.

Azazel's hand returned to Inojin's hair, gently stroking through the blonde curls as he guided him forward and back in slow, saliva soaked drags. “Good boy,” Azazel praised him, his voice calm cool and collected.

Inojin whines at the praise, pride blooming in his chest, warmth spreading throughout his body as he shifted his knees, desperate to reach down and stroke himself. He propped himself up further with his non-dominant arm, wriggling his weight off his elbow as to reach back and push a hand into his underwear. Almost immediately another inch and a half slid into his mouth, pressing past his teeth and teasing the opening of his throat. He gagged, coughing as his throat strained, sloppy, wet noises emanating from his mouth, sending surges of humiliation through him. He glanced up at Azazel with teary eyes, only to realize the older boy’s former smile had shifted, his lips drawn into a tight straight line.

He didn’t say anything, but Inojin got the sense that neither really needed to, instead he simply waited and watched as Inojin slowly withdrew his hands from inside his underwear and placed them obediently on the floor, earning a soft smile from his partner. Then again, apparently Azazel didn’t even need to speak or provide any encouragement, as Inojin found the precome leaking into his underwear becoming somewhat of an issue, the wet, sticky liquid further easing the steady glide of his cock against the fabric of his underwear, only adding to the friction as he repeatedly pushed his hips forward, actively seeking any form of contact as his underwear slowly rode higher on his body, tightening around him. The warmth that bubbled in the pit of his stomach seemingly rose without warning and soon he found his body wracked in shivers, shaking as he filled his underwear in a sticky, warm mess of come, whining as he felt the liquid run down his thighs and soak through his pants, a quick glance downward revealed that he’d essentially ruined his pants and no doubt destroyed his underwear as well. Under normal circumstances, he might’ve complained but the euphoria was mind-numbing, so much so that he didn’t even notice the perpetual pulsating of Azazel’s cock until come began spilling from his cheeks, dripping down his chin and staining what remained of his clean clothes. His dignity, pride, and self-restraint shattered in that single instant as just the sheer knowledge, the concept that  _ he  _ had been the reason his partner came, that  _ he  _ was the reason as to why come was currently spilled across his upper body was nearly enough to send Inojin into a second orgasm then and there. He swallowed, tried to swallow as best he could and found that he didn’t mind the mess on his clothes, nor did he necessarily mind when the hand in his hair tightened and he felt Azazel grind his come-slicked cock against Inojin’s cheek, in fact, he even closed his eyes and hummed happily at the feeling.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Self Discovery

Inojins breath is hot against Azazels neck, and his skin is soft, flushed a deep shade of crimson as he pants, a low throaty groan rolling out from between his lips. Spit is running down his chin, not dripping and he’s not drooling-well not yet at least, but it’s evident that his control of himself is slipping, he’s shivering and his hands are trembling, shaky as he gasps, biting his lips until they bleed to try and stifle the sounds. There are people nearby, some students and some adults, all of which would most likely not it see what’s they’re currently doing. Slender pale fingers dig into his hips, nails pressing into his skin as Inojin sinks to his knees, his lips barely grazing across his abdomen as he trails lower. Azazel’s nails dig into the bark of a nearby tree as his free hand digs into way into the blonde locks of Inojin’s hair, pulling, _ tugging _ at it for the simple pleasure he derives from listening to the boy groan beneath him, the quiet hitch of his voice and the way he winces, raising his head upwards as pale blue eyes lock violet ones. His cheeks are flushed, a pink hue dusting them as the boy sticks his tongue out, the small pink organ pressing down on his bottom lip as a small amount of saliva hangs off the tip, threatening to drip down onto his chest.

Azazel does not mention the way his hearts beats as he stares down, nor does he mention the twitch of his cock within his pants, it’s hard to not notice- the heat of it as it sticks to his thigh, the constant throb of it against his skin. Inojin notices it too, based on his expression, the slow way he drags his tongue across his lips- wets them not because he needs to, but simply because he  **knows** that Azazel is watching. They take their time though, not because they actually have the time to sit around and be patient but more so because Inojin seems to enjoy watching the patience of his partner eroding, and in some small way he likes the end result. So the blonde takes his time, fingers latching onto the waistband of Azazel’s pants, nails scratching across his sensitive skin as he drags the fabric downwards, inching it lower and lower before he’s met with his prize, admittedly he isn’t prepared for the way it springs free from its confines, the throbbing red tip springing forth and striking him across the cheek, leaving a thin trail of precoma spread across his face. He’s stunned for a few seconds but is abruptly pulled back to reality by the small chuckle that escapes Azazel’s lips as he softly smiles down at the blonde, giving a soft tug to his hair as more pre leaks from the head of his cock. In perhaps what has to be the worst decision in his short life, Inojin decides to stun the other boy, gripping him by the base with both hands- the regret begins to sink in the moment he realizes that he can barely fit his hand around the base, he had severely underestimated the girth of what he was handling. Is he unnerved? Sure, but is he deterred? Not at all, instead, it only urges him onward as pulls his head back, tilting it as he presses his lips to the tip, tongue lavishing the tip, fervently lapping at it, greedily swallowing the precoma that continuously leaks from it, he hums as he closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of Azazel’s hands in his hair, almost groaning at the way his grip tightens, pulling at the blonde locks. He slowly moves further downward and comes to the conclusion that his clothes and hair will be absolutely ruined by the end of this interaction, though for some reason he’s fine with that so long as he manages to surprise the individual towering above him. He swallows, relaxing his throat as best he can and tilting his head back, adjusting his angle to make the process easier, he even arches his back, though that’s more for his own comfort than it is for the pleasure of his partner, but he can tell that Azazel enjoys the sight, at least if the twitch of his cock is anything to go by. Speaking of which, Inojins own cock has been neglected this entire time, and the blonde feels slightly embarrassed about the fact that he’s been so focused on pleasuring the other that he has forgotten to do the same to himself.

He swallows again, this time audibly, he wants the other to  _ feel _ his throat tighten around him as he reaches his left hand down between his legs, pulling at the waistband of his pants. He almost  _ almost  _ frees himself, but the moment he manages to get the tip of his cock free from the suffocating restraints of his pants, the grip on his hair tightens, he’s pulled down and subsequently his hand is torn away from his pants, forced to return to its previous job of keeping his body upright as he leans forward. He whines, this time out of discomfort rather than neediness, actually a bit of a mix of both but he refrains from focusing further on that idea as he retches, spits pooling at the corners of his lips and running down along his chin, dripping onto the formerly clean black of his shirt. The regret hits him like a train, his gut dropping as the realization that he still has more to go, his arches his back more, hoping that maybe a better view will inspire his partner to go easier on him, but unfortunately, it earns him nothing more than a soft hum, and a tug, which forces his mouth lower onto the throbbing organ before him. He gags and chokes- regret seeps deeper into the pit of his stomach as he can’t help the fact that its loud, he  _ knows _ that people are going to hear him, he knows that he’s more than likely going to be seen by people he knows.

That realization hits him too, like a second train, he’s going to be  _ seen. _ Like this, hard, on his knees, with a dick in his mouth, a situation that he got himself into because contrary to what one would assume he was the only one stupid enough out of the two to assume that a blowjob in the middle of a park would be fun, an interesting way to mix things up. A mixture of emotions flicker through his body as he’s pulled,  _ forced _ to take more into his mouth; Arousal is the first that he recognizes, the semblance of pleasure and perhaps adrenaline that shocks its way through his system at the idea of being caught, he doesn’t consider the repercussions, at least not yet. The pleasure is confusing, he doesn’t fully understand why he likes the idea of being seen but maybe he’ll think more on it later. Next is fear, and that one's obvious, he’s absolutely terrified of being caught, of what his family will think of him, what people will say, what they’ll do or think about him, one way or another it's his reputation that he’s risking, his image and it's not easy to erase or move on from something as damning as sucking dick in a public park. He hears voices, a mixture of them some he recognizes and some he doesn’t, he can’t tell whether he’s thankful for that part or not, his gaze flick upwards, a pleading whimper hummed at his partner and for a brief moment, he thinks he might be allowed some form of mercy, as Azazel loosens his grip, moves his hand to the back of his head, Inojin even relaxes a bit, which is a mistake on his part. Instead of simply releasing him, or helping him up, or anything like that- instead of doing the nice thing, Azazel simply grips him by the back of his head and slams his hips forward, burying the remainder of his cock within the blondes throat. Inojin chokes, retches loud and clear as his nose is pressed firmly against his partners' crotch, he can feel the others balls smack against his chin, yet he doesn’t get much time to contemplate that thought nor its implications as he’s pulled back and forth, used like a ragdoll, a toy and nothing more. His throat starts to burn a few seconds in, and his eyes sting as tears start to roll down his cheeks, yet for some reason he doesn’t resist, he doesn’t try to stop anything he just lets it happen, he lets himself be used like this and once again, that arousal returns, the pleasure that shoots through his body like electricity. Azazel’s grip on his hair tightens, it hurts like hell but there’s a hint of underlying pleasure that Inojin can’t help but crave, so he tests his luck, tries to pull back only to have his head dragged back, forced down to the base as he that grip tightens. There’s a small amount of fear that some locks of hair might’ve been ripped out, but he quickly dismisses that as he grins- does his best to smile around the cock in his mouth. His breathing is impaired, he can barely inhale, and his cheeks are red, deep crimson and stained with tears and darkness is swimming around the corners of his vision.

Azazel wouldn’t  _ kill _ him with his dick, would he?

The thought is intrusive, and once it starts Inojin can’t help but focus on it as he’s continuously pulled, drag back and forth along the others cock like a glorified fleshlight. His movements are a bit sluggish now, he’s not losing consciousness or anything but he’s just tired maybe? Content? It takes him more time than it should to realize that he came, the wetness between his thighs is what alerts him to it, the stickiness and softening of his cock. He _is_ embarrassed by that, admittedly, not because he didn’t notice it but because he came _while_ being fucked like a toy. His pleasure was completely disregarded, his wellbeing, his health, his feelings were disregarded entirely and somehow **he** came first and not the other way around. He swallows once more, curls his tongue around the others cock, drags it over the veins that have been grating over his throat for the past few minutes now. He does register the twitch of the organ in his mouth though, and his body reacts before he even has the time to fully process that information- his back arches, his legs spread and he widens his mouth as Azazel grips his head like a vice, sheathing himself within the other's throat, impaling the blonde on his cock as he throbs, twitches briefly before a torrent of almost scalding hot come is poured down his throat, Inojin tries to swallow before realizing that he doesn’t need to, Azazel hadn’t asked or even considered the possibility of what the other might want, instead he simply buried himself inside the other, forcing him to take whatever he gave him, and apparently, he intended to give him a lot, based on the heavyweight Inojin could feel building in his stomach.

He felt full.

The weight was heavy, almost oppressive as though the other was trying to stuff him so full that he wouldn’t be able to move so that he’d be able to use him whenever and however he wanted. Thankfully, Inojin feels the familiar dragging heavyweight of the others cock slowly pulling itself from his throat. The veins graze of his tongue and in a strangely obedient fashion, Inojin remains completely still, he doesn’t even close his mouth once its completely vacant, nor does he moves as Azazel drags, smacks and grazes his come-covered cock across the others face, openly marking the other as the heady scent of come washes over Inojin like ocean waves. His hair is sticky, his face is sticky,  _ he’s  _ sticky all over, his hair, face, lips, chest, thighs, all of him. He’s an absolute mess, and yet he finds himself loving it, relishing in his current state.

They need to make a habit out of this.

They  _ will _ make a habit of this.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to mention any ideas you have, either in the comments or if you'd like- you can find me on discord as well at: Azazel#6306


End file.
